


Discounted Tours

by nightmarefever



Series: Musical Chairs [2]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, Gender-neutral Reader, Grinding, Happy Valentine's Day Kids, MINOR bruiseplay, Other, Reader-Insert, public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3343307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmarefever/pseuds/nightmarefever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple shopping trip turns a bit personal, but who are you to complain when it's with someone worthy of such audience. (Post Phase 3 but not quite Phase 4)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discounted Tours

**Author's Note:**

> Not to sorta make another series but I might just do that haha. I got a LOT of requests on tumblr for another one of these, as well as some prompts so I kind've ended up putting them together. It took me a while to get around to making this but i finally did just in time for an early Valentine's Day gift! This was quite frankly immensely embarrassing to write so I hope you enjoy it! (It's. gender-neutral reader but DFAB this time.)

"I just don't see the point," he says but he stuffs his hair into the beanie nonetheless. Probably so you won't mumble about it any longer, probably because it is the dead of winter. It's a good bundle-up from nosy camera flashes and the spikes of frost. Maybe even rain, given the sounds you'd been hearing outside the car. 

2D turns over a pair of sunglasses. Like everything else he's wearing, they're devoid of color. Dark and unappealing. A certain turn away from the popping brights he had been wearing before you desperately asked him not to. 

"The  _point_  is to lay low, right?" You pocket your keys. A glance out the window confirms suspicions. Unlike the man with his boots on your dashboard, you're hatless. Hatless and doomed to be drenched. 

"Nobody else really was minding when I went out, you know?" he continues. Finally sliding the sunglasses on so his final giveaway hides. "I mean, Russel once got on my case about it. As I was leaving, he's up on the roof, you know, shouts at me--" The singer digs through his jacket. He rustles out a lighter and continues digging. "--that we need to be off the radar. And that I'm not helping, right?" 

You give a nod as he starts to light a cigarette. Still mumbling about everyone's opinions about him leaving the house, you yourself wondering if the extreme reaction means anyone else does.  He takes a drag and you perk up.

"HEY!"

2D starts coughing surprised. Jerking his hand away from you as you try and snatch his wrist.

"What? What--What did I do?"

"Do  _not_  smoke in my car." 

"...I smoke in Murdoc's car--"

"Murdoc already smells awful. I care about this vehicle. I'd rather it not smell like an ashtray."

2D frowns at that. 

"I smell like an ashtray."

"No. You don't." 

A small nod comes from that. "A much better ashtray at least." He gives a glance at the lit cigarette in his hand, then one at you. A contemplating look that makes you sigh heavily. Because he doesn't put it out. Instead he opens the car door, stepping out into the quiet storm. 

You follow very hurriedly. 

It's jam-packed with silence and empty aisles, save for the spare employee scrawling around for trash, misplaced items,  _anything_  so the shift isn't quite so painfully dull. A man with his feet on the counter nods over a comic book. A girl stacking cans gives the briefest of smiles. Both of them quickly turn back to their duties though. It's just a kindness they are required to give.

You look away from them to see your wisp of blue head moving down shelves already. Hardly time to grab a basket and catch up with legs that tall. But you make it as he's piling wacky cereal flavors into his arms. 

"Do you really need those?" you say. They're all off-brand. Marshmallows and fruity flavors more for toddlers than a flat of adults. Given he's already putting them in the basket, they're perfect. "Really--" But he's off again, muttering back at you, "I know what they like! Also what's cheap, right!"

Can't argue with that...

You maybe...should have. The trip seems to consistent of nothing more than its start--the singer rushing about, for some reason eagerly wanting to fill the basket held in your aching arms. A basket... Why'd you grab a basket? There's a cart up front. There's a dozen of them. Then you'd be racing after him in style, with speed. 

But that's more of 2D's thing, anyways. The lanky man going off of some list in his head. An impressive feat given his brain weird mentalities, forgetting things so easily, losing track of himself so easily. But he's no doubt been here more time than you've repeated his albums (too many times, far too many times.) He's got a pattern, a beat to dance to in here. 

You didn't intend to break it.

You did.

The basket hits the crystal-clear tiles beneath. Hands sore from holding it up with the weight of far too many items. Can he even afford them? Is he going to play five fingered discounts today with you as his cohort? You hope not. You try to speak to him about it once you're not holding up all these potentially stolen goods.

2D's holding an apple, still for once. Squeezing it and other fruit, he's taking a moment to relax and make sure he's grabbing fresh items. Still tapping a beat over the shopping trip. Like a tap in his step you can't visible  _see_  but know is scorching his mind. 

He pushes the sunglasses up his forehead to squint at the fruit. 

You rub his neck, meaning to surprise him to maybe? Pay attention to you. The intention is to make him hold the overflowing basket instead, you know, so maybe you can get a cart or another basket and make the trip less painful. Your thumb brushing against his skin decides against that. Fresh color from incidents you're still  _very_  proud of shine. Shine and no doubt ache under your touch. 

2D's shoulders roll forward. "That's. That's still sore, love." 

"Oh-Sorry."

"S'aight."

He returns to his duties. Albeit with a different pace. Your hand is still on his neck, unmoving from the bruised spot it touches. The fruit examination seems almost more forced now, stalled-sort of forced. You hope you're not reading too deeply into things because there's a small grin crawling on a face (yours) and it gives ideas (it gives you amazing ideas.)

You push again. 

"'Ey--"

As your thumb presses, it slides. Sliding to the collar of 2D's jacket and tugging at it. You try peering into it it, still smiling. "More down there, huh?"

For a moment, he registers what you mean. Blinking. Then he pops up a smile of his own. He puts the fruit down. "Feels like it."

"Not from videos though?"

"For once." The strangely teasing look he gives in the moment dies. He's pulling one of wonderment. "Except I got a nasty one on my hip still--Hit hard with a--"

You put your finger to his mouth. You sigh deeply, dearly needing him to stay on track here. "...Where is it? Your hip?"

"Yeah?" he asks more than answers.

You nod.

Your hand starts slider lower from his face. The man watching curiously. The closer you get to his destined hip, however, the curiosity pulls into a far more smiling look again. He's getting what you're setting down. 

"So is it..." Cold hand slides under his jacket and shirt, meeting bare skin and exploring. He doesn't stop you, just gives a bite to his lip as he waits for the moment when--

He lets out a strange and  _loud_  snort. Your nail scratching the surface of a dark purpled bruise on his hip bone didn't startle you but that. That did. An intense heat hits your cheeks. You give a glance down the aisles closest. You know there's at least two workers in the store that would have heard that. You know there are Martians in space that would have heard that.

2D seems as equally aware of how terrible a noise he just made it was. "S-Sorry! Sorry," he says in a whisper. Chuckles lining up with his speech. "You--Could you do that again?"

The shelves only hold goods not staring people. Your heart is still racing though. You should have known. He'd been nothing but a blaring stero in the bedroom. You actually had the idea to toss that into this store-- 

It makes your skin crawl. Body heat up and mouth dry. 

But...this seems like a lot of fun.

You really shouldn't be so brave but your heart is too deep into it to back down. And the way 2D bites his lip a bit harder as you follow his request doesn't help the feelings of bravery. They keep ascending as your motions continue, your mouth desperately wanting to latch to old hickies on his neck. 

It's very fast but the trip had been nothing but that. Fast and sudden. Your hand starting to slide a bit deeper. You're playing with his waistband when a curved mouth touches yours. 2D doesn't give a chance for any more neck brands. 

The position seems to shift on its own. Already one you certainly shouldn't be in, it becomes more, well, terrible when you're pushed against the short railing keeping the boxes of fruit up, hands both now on his hips. Fingers sit in belt loops instead of almost beneath trousers. 

But he still kisses you. 

"Are we doing this then? That's a thing you want to do?" 

He grins against your lip and presses against your body, effectively trapping you on the fruit aisle. You aren't complaining, not wanting to be anywhere else. You nod at his question. Glad he's asking but really that's less time with his lips on yours, isn't it?

He returns with that reassurance, not needing anymore. He snorts as your tongue brushes the gums of his missing teeth, rolling closer with each second. Belt loops feel too boring on your palms. What doesn't is something that certainly draws your-and his-attention. 

"I feel--I should be embarrassed," he laughs quietly. 

Looking down at your filled palm, you nod. "You should be." Hardly meaning it. You give a squeeze. 

"I'm  _really_  not." A familiar sound that makes his voice sound like a whistle between his teeth gap is in your ear. He's moved to it. Even with his face out of view, you are utterly positive 2D's still got a smile on his face. 

He's certainly more confident when he's not bleeding in a bathroom. Not unsure on boundaries. There's certainly no boundaries in a supermarket. The giggles you keep hearing as your hand rubs, though, reminds you, yes this is still that really awkward singer from Gorillaz. He's not totally out of the moment. 

"Sorry though." His tone, still happy and delighted, but he can't hold back saying it. "That one was very very sore."

"Oh I know," you respond. 

A giggle starts to come out but at the last moment it's replaced with a breathy sound. Hearing it signals more moving. You're not...sitting on the fruit. Exactly. But with the position, almost sitting on the railing with the way you're being leaned back, you might as well be. It's a precarious arrangement. You could easily fall both forward or back, like sitting in the middle of a teeter-totter. 

2D's got you though. You trust him enough to let him keep you in place here. It's his turn to hold belt loops, back to your lips again. Your shoulder blades brush the top trays of higher boxes, hands going back to hold them instead of feeling the man up. He's got something more in mind anyways it seems. 

You certainly can feel the idea brushing your inner thigh. 

"Good thing we didn't stop at the laundromat yet..." you mutter. 

"Hm?" 2D adjusts his position--brushing is more centered. Nervously you lick your lips, legs tilting further apart at the intrusion. Is it an intrusion? Everything covered up, nothing but feeling and suggestions even if they are very  _explicit_  suggestions. "O-Oh. Oh yeah that's. That's going to be quite a mess--Sorry." He still laughs despite his apology. Despite the fact he's pressing forward. His tongue crosses over his teeth in front of you, making you smile despite the slow inhale you're taking.

"Unless you wanna--"

"No."

"Thought so." He gives a peck to your face. "You have very s-strict moral guide rules or others. Like a nail in a woodwall or something that won't budge even if you rock it." You're a bit thrown off by what he's trying to say but he says it in a teasing way, moving back into the crook of your neck, so you assume it's positive. 

He's also, ironically, rocking. Against you. Gently and not too shockingly to make you freak out. You only grip tighter to the shelf holder. Grips on your backside keep you steady, 2D's hands dipping into your back pockets. 

Your lips are sealed tight, breathing harshly through your nose at each motion forward. It's not a quickening force, really. Just continuous enough it makes your stomach tighten. 

Almost whistles are on your skin, 2D keeping himself calmed through the same bit lips of earlier. It's a bit unsettling. The incident in the bed had taught you that had to be a bit....rough. Tough on him because he probably  _wanted_  to be vocal. He was  _really_  vocal, wasn't he? Tossed words and purring small groans, all of which fell silent in a store that was probably making the slight creak of the railing alert the two workers at the store front. 

His thumb slides beneath your shirt and your back arches. It's a sudden feeling that makes it all nicer. Thumb pad forming circles on the curve of your spine. Arch rolling your zipper closer to his far more bulged one. 

2D's head tilts closer as well, mouth on your neck but not kissing. Just resting, so the stubble on his lip tickles your skin. Open mouthed, hot air-- You're just as suddenly on a fruit stand with the singer grinding against you as you are about to be walking out of here it seems. 

The motions feel more jagged at the very least. Jabbing comfortable into you, making you wish you weren't so close to falling back on produce. This is so lovely otherwise. Lovely and you...you could have gotten more out of it but it's still fantastic. Knowing you helped feels enough--

2D catches himself on the same shelf you're holding. You don't really realize your eyes have been closed until he's halting entirely. Done, you're sure. That much is obvious. Not so obvious is the sound you hear, that grows in volume. It jumps your eyes open entirely. 

One of the workers is coming back to clean. You can hear them arguing over who has to. And you can see 2D essentially crawling off of you. It's quick and you're down to a more hidden aisle so fast it feels like no time has passed. 

Both of you panting, then looking at each other. Then trying not to laugh too hard.

"That was  _too_  close--" you start, peering down the shelves to see if anyone followed. The sound of the bickering coworkers isn't in your ringing ears anymore. That's a good sign. Equally as good, or a bit startling is a lack of the man you just ran with. Who put you in a position to need to so suddenly run.

Your dizzy mind registers he's not in eyesight for a different reason than a disappearance-- Glancing down, 2D is eyelevel with your fly, fingers going towards it--

"H-Hey now."

He immediately stops. No, he just hesitates. Fingers twitching in place on your thighs, each waiting to continue but he still sputters out his usual lines. "Whoa--sorry, I just thought. Why it's not. Not good sport to just stop, right? I mean--haha for you. Not for me." He puts on this goofy smile that you feel, in your heart, he truly means as sexy. "We are sure on that."

"Are you offering me something, 2D?" you inquire, smirking down at him. "Right after we almost got caught?"

The man gives a fake shrug. 

"Are you serious?"

"It's only the gen-gentlemanlysome thing to do." 

Gentlemanlysome... How are you going to hear that dork say  _that_  and not let him just rip your clothes off right there? Your stomach certainly wouldn't, already bitter at being built up on the fruit stand. Like things are nearing a conclusion that you'd like to feel for once. So you don't say more, simply look back, checking that you are indeed against something that wont fall over. That'd be...not even embarrassing. There would be no words for that.

You don't really have any words anyways, luckily. Just letting 2D do what he seemed to be eager about getting done prior. It's like a kid playing with his favorite toy, working with little time at your zipper. 

You aren't totally sure what he's planning until he's tugging your everything down, which makes your cheeks heat up again. Mouth is too dry suddenly to really say anything. But there's still no words, right? Just the view of 2D very quickly not caring for the nudity or the fact it wasn't like that moments before.

You're bothered by it, namely because you wish you'd been told  _that_  would happen. In the store of all places. He kinda seems focused on helping you out though, like he had been before. So it doesn't upset you really. Just...may be something you mention later. "Hey let's have a signal maybe, yeah?"

Either or, 2D peers up. "This fine with you, right?"

He does have your interests in mind... "Sure, mate."

"Sure, mate," he repeat, not mockingly but to hear it. It makes him smile. "Well, mate, bite into something or....or...no that sounds---really--yeah just bite into something, I'll stick with that."

"Bite into...what?" 

2D doesn't give a response. You don't really have the chance to process one even if he had given one. The man's cold hands grasp your hips, making your own fall back to grab the shelf behind. Saliva catches in your throat. Body holding still.

The singer kisses you stomach. Drawing out a slight shudder down your body as it crawls lower, his lips. Experimentally perhaps, but maybe too much. You are working on a deadline here and you hope he gets that thought in his mind soon enough.

You stare forward out into the store, er, the aisle. Like a look-out. Your own look-out. Scared someone's going to come waltzing towards the two of you and then the whole thing's blown and that'd look terrible on the both of you wouldn't it? You'd be in the papers as the person caught with the famous singer 2D in a local supermarket probably ruining the comeback he's getting all bruised and beaten up over--

A gasp leaves you, one you quickly cover with your hand. 2D's done kissing and teasing, whatever teasing that had been. Lips pressed right against...well  _yours_. He doesn't seem shaken by your sound. Or...he could be. You wouldn't know. You for once are not focused on him and his reactions.

He's too far down to be noticed as anything other than moving lips, parting lips, something wet finding you. Hands still keeping you where he needs you. Just started but it feels like forever, given the produce rocking. 

You keep feeling so lied too, that he's got to be so awkward and nervous and then perform so easily. So  _well._  He's performing perfectly, digging into you and making your hips feel weak in the singer's mouth. Any other sudden sounds stay down in your chest, or in your tightening stomach. It's an easy job than when he was doing it. 

You're probably too focused on that amazing  _feeling._  You wonder if its at all related.

Great singer, great tongue. 

Wonderful mouth making you feel so weak and getting your eyes to flutter.

 He works like a true professional, that's for sure. Motions you almost wish you could feel out to their full extent instead of quickly to finish a quickie at a supermarket.

2D's tongue curls so perfectly, making you really wish you'd had something to bite into after all. This is torture having to resist the groans practically attacking your throat. Your body is shaking at the motions escaping your stomach, wanting to escape your throat. 

Your toes curl in your winter boots, feeling heavy and nonexistent as you want to fall forward, held up by the shelf and 2D's hands on your hips. Even as it draws to a close with the final lift of heat from your body, making your eyes squeeze shut as any means to resist that same gasp that started it.

And he's pulling away, the cold embrace of his fingers sliding lower, to drag your lower garments back up and buckled so kindly. 

The shelf deserves to collapse. You deserve to collapse. 2D should carry you home and lay you in that bed you now can just call a shared strip of furniture. 

You feel honestly disgusting, more physically than emotionally. That laundromat visit is most certainly needed. Though you can't complain  _as_  badly as 2D with the situation his trousers must be in, simply smile fondly at him as he stands up. He doesn't do anything until he has made sure you're all zipped and belted back up. Nice of him. You feel too dazed to do it yourself. He rubs his mouth on his jacket sleeve, grinning like an idiot when his face emerges from behind it. 

"Well I guess we don't need to get the milk..." he chuckles. 

You feel strangely not alive, like you really are in bed and not in the supermarket. It makes your register of his line slow. 

Then your mouth flies open. You're briefly surprised by it. Long enough to stare at him wide mouthed as he goes to fetch the basket. The chorus of "Sorry, sorry, sorry! I'm a liar--we do need milk though!" as he leaves makes you start to grin, in a mix of disbelief and pride.  

He really does need to be watched in public.


End file.
